


Superposition

by firagarif



Category: Final Destination (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Choking, Fear of Death, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Out, Oops, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Scars, Self-Indulgent, Serious Injuries, Sleepy Cuddles, What-If, evil clothesline, go read that, there's another work under this tag finally (took me forever to see that)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-10-31 04:50:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17842787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firagarif/pseuds/firagarif
Summary: He can't breathe.The wire is pulled so tight, restricting the use of his lungs.There's a shadow above him, consuming him, eating him alive.He's going to die.





	1. Superposition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jas/gifts).



> Since Final Destination 5 was set before Final Destination, I think it's only fair I mention the film. It's not big spoilers, just the main premonition is mentioned.
> 
> Let me know if there's any mistakes, I wrote this because I was feeling sad.

There's a deep pain in his neck. It's tight and firm, squeezing. Air is cutting off quickly and his hands fly up to meet the stout force slowly suffocating him. Choking on his own tongue, lips curled back, desperate for some relent. Ugly gasps and gulps for naught, head spinning as he tries to inhale.

Flashes of pain deeply burrowed behind his eyes as if bursting. Small sparks and jolts of sharp, pinpoint jabs underlying his sockets. Panic sets in as smoothly and calmly as an explosion can: setting off, bursting through his senses. His parents are right under his feet and they wouldn't notice until the sun rises - when it's time for the day to begin, that he's not breathing - if he were to succumb.

The newspaper clipping is so tightly clenched in white knuckles, the name in his mind so fresh and ominous. The deep, profound effect on his brain past all these premonitions and fear: something is wrong, something is very wrong.

Alex Browning breathes in steadily, hands falling away from the invisible suffocating force that had never existed, followed by the urge to un-clench his fist and cast a glance at the crumbled ball of clipped newspaper. It's superfluous when he already knows what's printed bold-faced on it, but Alex unravels the folds anyway and stares down at the name, as if it will grant insight. 'Tod' bolded, Franklin Gothic font stares back.

The paper is so cleanly severed to only show the boy's name, and yet seeming randomly shredded by the fan and by mere coincidence did it form a tangible word - his best friend's name at that.

It's terribly inauspicious, the whole ordeal. There had been an interesting case similar to his current predicament about a year ago, where a man, named Sam, had a vision of a bridge that he had been traveling on suddenly collapse and watched people he was close to die, only to wake up from some dream-like trance and get off before the bridge collapsed and claimed tons of people's lives. But Sam's case was odd, and the news practically blew up about it. As the people that survived the bridge collapse, that had originally died in the man's premonition, all began dying one-by-one in freak, horrible accidents until no one was left. It was odd though. While researching, Alex learned Sam and Molly, the man who had the vision and his girlfriend, died on flight 180.

Maybe it was all asinine, picking at small details and coincidences, trying to pry open this case and solve it as best he could, meanwhile he was just sophisticating things. He may even bring on another panic attack, which was the simplest explanation for the asphyxiation he had caused on himself. He needed to stop dwelling on it.

God what he really needed was sleep, more than anything, but sometimes voices with no faces, a song without lyrics, would play to him their melancholic tune of pleas and harsh truths. He'd saved 6 people, yes, but left 280 to otherwise perish. Perish by a fate he'd known about, and could have evidently prevented.

A sharp ringing bit into his ears and Alex shot his gaze up from the cut newspaper he'd been lost in thought looking at, his head turning to the bedroom door, eyes wide. The teen shot out of his desk chair, slamming his elbow into the computer's bulky monitor as he rose, negating the pain in his mind as he pushed towards the landline in the hall with an inflating desperation.

Alex pulled his door open and proceeded down the hallway upstairs, his hand hovering over the phone. He hesitated, biting his lip and clenching his other hand into a fist around the paper still in his palm.

He pulled the phone from the plastic mount nailed in the wall, resting the cool plastic against the warm side of his face.

"Hello?" He breathed out into the microphone, hiccuping on air. There was a deep feeling of despair and fear in his guts and it churned, unsettling his stomach into discomforting cramps.

_"Alex? Alex, that you?"_ The other end of the phone crackled and the recipient was breathing harshly against the phone, letting out gasps as they struggled to inhale and exhale in a calm manner. Their voice is incredibly hoarse and scratchy and it's discernible that it can't be blamed on a bad connection.

"Yeah. Yeah it's me Tod. Hey man, you doing alright? You don't sound too good." Alex asks, surprised at first to hear Tod's voice, concern beading at the corners of his fringed mind. He can hear his friend's lapsed breathing. Almost like he's choking - like Alex had been just a few minutes before. Was this another premonition? He glanced down the halls, his head ringing when Tod began coughing wetly on the other side. 

Alex gulped and pressed the phone closer to his ear, cradling the plastic with numb fingers against the skin of his cheek, focusing on strange breathing patterns that flows from his friend. "Tod, are you okay? What's going on?"

There's something like the sound of retching on the other end, and Alex contemplates pulling the phone away from his ear, to rid his mind of that horrible sound, but then he'll miss when Tod speaks.

_"Alex, I thought I was going to die. I can't stand that thought, I don't want to die. I still want to do so much in my life."_ A choked sob escapes the line then and Alex has to remember to breathe again for a moment. It sounds like he's been crying long and hard. Alex believes Tod's been thinking about the plane explosion, which would've brought on the sudden emotions.

"You won't die, Tod. It's the fear. It's playing with you. We still have that road trip planned ahead, and we're still going to see the Yanks, remember? You won't die before then." Alex reminds him, pacing his breathing in his head, clutching the phone as if it's a lifeline. The reminder is there to soothe both of them in all truth.

Another cry, faint, as Tod must be trying to prevent the tears.

"Do you need me to come over? We can talk about this Tod. You're just experiencing survivor's guilt. It's completely normal-." Alex means to elaborate and diminish Tod's fears, when a pained groan comes from the other side of the line and worry and panic grows.

_"I- I need to come over. My dad's asleep but he won't let you in the house. And I can't stand being alone. I'm scared Alex! Something's coming for me. I don't know who or why but I know because I can sense them! I sensed them earlier when I-!"_ Tod stops himself and Alex wishes he knew what he was going to say. He wants to comfort Tod, the same way his friend has always done for him: the way Tod reassured him in hushed tones after he was too panicked to stay on flight 180; the way Tod calmly explained he was off the plane even through his delirium, and that he wouldn't have to worry about the plane exploding with him on it. But now he gets the feeling something else happened, besides Tod just thinking of a horribly gruesome death.

"Alright, I'll go unlock the back door of the kitchen. When you get here, come inside and lock it. My parents will be asleep on the couch so we can talk alone upstairs in my room, okay? It's going to be okay Tod. Just try to breathe and get here when you can. You'll be okay. Can you do that?" Alex soothes and he hears a murmured, strained: 'yes, thank you' before the line clicks and he loses the connection. The teen, rattled from the conversation, places the telephone slowly back on it's proper wall mount.

He sets off downstairs, unlocking the kitchen door as he said he would. There's something so ill and malicious in the air, almost like a looming presence of a dark shadow, unseen by the untrained eye: a terribly malevolent force of nature watches his every move. He hopes Tod will really be okay to get here safely. 

Alex then returned back upstairs to his room, being sure to rearrange his books and turn off his computer to obscure any research he had conducted on the subject of premonitions and Sam's incident.

He's so tired though from evading sleep for days on end and eventually decides to just lay down in wait for Tod. Alex leaves a single nightlamp on in his bedroom, cautiously moving around the house to ensure every other light has been turned off with the exception of a lone light to illuminate the kitchen and another overhead the stairs. He leaves his door propped open so light from his room spills into the hall and provides enough illumination to find the way around.

Alex curls up on the mattress and stares out his window, watching a faint, light rain patter outside. It's enough of a pattern to lull himself to sleep, with a stray thought that Tod will wake him up when he arrives.

~~

It's so much warmer in the room as Alex stirs, a faint trembling at his back and encasing his legs. There's a warm block of radiating heat pressed solidly in his spine and around the waist and it's vibrating, with no distinguishable rhythm.

There's an inhale of air behind his ears and Alex falters while trying to catch back up on sleep. He has a moment where everything feels completely familiar and there's nothing odd happening. 'A trick of the mind' he thinks, but then there's a press of a warm strip of skin onto his neck, invading a sensitive part of his body that can recognize another's touch easily, and then pieces fall neatly into their places.

"Tod? Tod, is that you?" Alex mutters half into his pillow, speaking softly in case his friend is actually asleep. He knows Tod's been taking flight 180's explosion the worst because of the death of George; he knows that the loss of his brother haunts him with no slack and sleep cannot be coming easily.

It had not been a threat to back off, but Alex senses Tod's distress immediately after he speaks and regrets it. The cooler forehead of his friend pulls away from where it had laid across the back of his neck and his arms start to slide from around Alex. But Alex halts the effort, laying an arm over his guest's folded over his waist. "Hey, it's okay if you're comfortable. I'd prefer you identified yourself first though." 

A shaky sigh leaves the teen behind Alex, a gust of breath blowing against his heated skin at the nape of his neck. "Yeah. Sorry. I was scared. I- I think I shouldn't be here." Tod tries to excuse himself, Alex dully notes his voice sounds much worse in person, and proceeds to pull away again.

Alex sits up then and turns himself to face towards Tod. The teen is lying down in the bed with red streaks of tears running down his face. There's a hand placed over his neck, obscuring deep lacerations from the struggle with the thin, sharp, piercing clothesline. His eyes are closed and his mouth is drawn into a grimace as he's examined wholy by Alex.

Alex spots the deep lines in his friend's throat, couldn't miss it even if he tried, and goes to press at the area around the delicately tender skin curiously. He nudges Tod's hand away gently from the other's neck to see the injury in full, shushing him and assuring him that it'll be okay, he just means to inspect it, as he does so.

Tod allows it slowly with heavy reluctance, finally baring his neck for Alex to see. Lines mark his skin deep, cut with rough edges as to exemplify Tod's panicked, flurry of struggles with the stout wire. Alex is careful as he lays back down and gingerly traces the cut with tender touches. "What happened, Tod. What happened at your house?"

A tear slides down Tod's cheek, descending across the bridge of his nose, landing silently on the bed sheet. He peeks his eyes open to glimpse at Alex, revealing dark, crimson sclera, evidence of hundreds of burst capillaries, leaving him with somewhat blurred vision; making him look like hell just barely warmed over.

Alex gasps at the sight, moving up his other hand to press to Tod's cheek, asking again with a continuously escalating worry. "Tell me what happened."

Tod closes his eyes, preferring to hide the sight of his blood-red sclera. "I don't know. I was- I was removing the clothes from the cord in the tub when I slipped. And the line, the clothesline, spun around my throat so quickly that I didn't have time to grab the scissors off the shelf. I thought I was going to die in that tub. I wasn't going to ever see the Yankees play or have our trip with you. I thought I was going to die!" A sob ripped itself from his already scarred throat, causing another few tears to roll down his cheeks from the pain and sorrow.

Alex swept away his tears with one hand, pressing the palm to the side of his neck with his other. The weight was warm and comforting for Tod, a distinct contrast to sharp, tight, cold wire biting into delicate skin. He hushed Tod calmly. Maybe he was losing his mind, but it was becoming more apparent that Sam's case was turning into his own.

"You're here now. You're safe. I'm alive and so are you." Alex reassured, and for a moment contemplated his next action.

Tod's sobbing had quieted, but did not halt. Alex drew his hand away, moving it down to hold Tod's forearm. "Just breathe." Tod did so, inhaling then exhaling, inhaling and exhaling, over and over again.

Alex meanwhile, holding onto Tod's arm for grounding, began to discard the button-up jacket he'd accidentally fallen asleep in. He let go of Tod's limb briefly, to nudge off the garment, when the teen opened his red eyes to look for Alex. There was a hint of panic and alarm in his gaze, one that was scared if he even existed anymore, when Alex threw the jacket to the foot of the bed and pressed his palm to Tod's wrist, watching as the panic dissolved from his face as quickly as it had come.

"I'm still here. Don't worry about me, just keep breathing steady. I'm going to go get some water for you, and-." Alex attempted to sit up, but was stopped by a hand meeting his hip.

"No, please don't leave. Please don't leave me alone. It's coming for me, I know it is. I don't want to be alone right now." Tod explained, his body trembling uncontrollably, quivering with the very thought of the idea. 

Alex nodded slowly, calmly, evaluating his next few crucial choices. He needed to let Tod know that he wasn't going to die and that he didn't plan to go anywhere. "Okay, it's okay, I'm not leaving you. You're going to be okay." His eyes meticulously roamed over the lacerations on his neck, then flicked up to meet Tod's bloody, wild eyes.

The opposite teen's features softened immediately in response. "Thank you," he said, moving up his hand to manipulate Alex's arm under his neck, which Alex allowed with no retort. From the newfound position, Alex could feel the carotid pulse of Tod on his forearm and Tod could feel the brachial pulse of Alex on his throat.

Alex wrapped his other arm around Tod's waist, pulling him in close to himself. Tod responded eagerly by wrapping his own arms around Alex.

"Thank you," Tod cried out again, quietly, pressing his forehead onto Alex's shoulder.

Alex responded with a preen that was the equivalent of a 'you're welcome'.

~~

Alex was inarguably very comfortable when he woke up in the morning, ignoring the completely numb, asleep arm that had been pressed to Tod's neck for what he assumed had been the entire night. Sometime in the night, he had practically rolled on top of the other teen, embracing him entirely with his body and an arm under his throat, the other reaching down to wrap around the entirety of his hip.

It seemed Tod had accepted this fate and cuddled up much more snuggly, having drawn closer while they had been sleeping. Both of his arms had wormed around Alex, holding onto him in an unbreakable embrace. The side of his face was pressed against Alex's chest, seeking subterfuge under his chin.

Alex had no plans to get up anytime soon. This had been his longest time asleep since the fated explosion, and no doubt the same for Tod. He did however turn his head a little to peek out his window.

Sunlight pooled in to form a strip across his floor, not quite enough to reach the bed, but enough to illuminate the room decently. As well as project it was morning. That fact was dismissed.

The boy then carefully manipulated Tod in his arms, cautious to not wake him, as he snatched the blanket lying by their feet and brought it up over them. Alex then settled back into the lax cuddle, knowing triumphantly that it had efficiently soothed Tod who had been plagued with fear. Not to say that Alex didn't hold his own concerns, especially when he'd seen such deep, bleeding lacerations across his best friend's neck, and the idea that death was trailing the survivor's now, but Tod was here, breathing against him, his pulse slow and steady. He was okay here and now.

He meant to fall back into an easy sleep, with his thoughts resolute. Alex closed his eyes and found his breathing begin to fall into step with Tod's, held in his arms. The sweet sensation of sleep seemed not far off when a hard knock alerted his senses into a panicked alarm.

"Hey, Alex? Mister Waggner is on the line and-," Mister Browning halted himself, for as he walked into the room, he had his question answered. Alex sat up, shifting his position to pretend he hadn't been cuddling with Tod. A little hard to do, unless he wanted to detach the other boy, leaving his arms around him and form pulled in close. Alex couldn't help but wince when Tod let out a groan in contempt for the other boy leaving, but he did not stir awake. 

His father stood at the doorway for a moment in shock, jaw slightly agape, meeting Alex's eyes for a moment, then grabbed the handle and began to close the door, taking his leave. It had been by some luck that the scarring across Tod's neck was not in his father's line of sight.

Just before he had closed the door, Alex could hear him speak again, without missing a beat. "I'm very sorry Mister Waggner, but he was actually with Alex in his room. You know how the boys get." There was a pause, and the door stopped moving for a second, almost completely closed, but still open enough to hear. "Yes, of course, they seem to be having a great time." 

Then his father pulled it shut completely and Alex settled back into sleep, letting relief wash over him, holding Tod close.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you think this was a one-shot? I'm sorry, there's more.

The sun had filled the room with it's radiance, leaving no part of the teen's bedroom untouched by it's warm gaze. Alex shifted in bed, feeling his spine grow tepid as time passed.

He was inclined to just ignore the heat, dismiss it like it hadn't been his problem, discomfort forgotten, or that it was now noon, opting instead to fall back into easy slumber.

That was until a stir from the body beside his roused him. Alex felt the other teen raise himself off the mattress and he peeked open an eye to see Tod let out a big, bear yawn. The boy immediately grimaced at this, placing a hand to his sore throat, disentangling his limbs from Alex, but not pulling away so they couldn't still feel each other's radiant warmth.

"Mornin'." Alex muttered, seeing Tod sitting up, rubbing at the skin of his neck. The rough scarring hadn't looked much better than last night. If anything, it appeared to be much worse now that it was in revealed in the full of the light. It wasn't swelling or pussing though, so he assumed it would be okay, the wound already closing and now just deeply scarred skin.

"Hey," Tod responded, his hand dropping from his neck in order to pick at Alex's side. "Planning on sleeping in?"

Alex took to blinking blankly, then closing his eyes, rolling over, and playfully pretending to go back to sleep with a grunt. He shoved his head into his pillow, just to add the icing to the hypothetical cake.

Tod groaned, which ended up becoming a cough in full. He then nudged Alex in the side again, a little more forcefully this time. "I'm not kidding. C'mon, we should get up. I have to talk to my parents so they don't get worried over me."

Alex rolled back over, giving up his ruse easily to dispel his concerns, "Oh, yeah. My dad already did that. He told yours we were hanging out." Emphasis on 'hanging out'.

Tod's eyes widened, and Alex could see some of the blood that still resided in the sclera. It left his eyes a mix of pink and blood red. When he realized he was staring, he flicked his eyes across the room to an unimposing poster taped up on the wall.

"Shit, bet he didn't like that." Tod replied, a hint of worry, but yet mild relief, in his tone.

Alex sat up then, finding his eyes lingering back onto Tod's face with a sort of inexplicable affection and care. "He's going to be fine, he just worries too much."

Tod nodded in agreement, raking a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right. It's just a bit overbearing." He glanced at Alex's hand resting on the mattress, lightly gripping the sheets between his fingers.

Alex nodded too. "So, breakfast?" He asked, watching red eyes land on his own. They were pained still, holding a heavy burden beyond what Alex could even imagine. And not even fully capable of seeing properly either, with burst capillaries disrupting that usually normal function, but still able to find the familiar form of Alex.

Tod sighed, scratching bluntly with his fingernails at his neck, careful to not reopen any lacerations, but mindlessly still irritating the flesh. "I don't know if I can eat. Hell, man, I don't even know if I can drink." He spoke out, exasperated, a chuckle just at the edge of his words.

Alex did agree with that notion. He had no idea what kind of damage had been done to Tod's throat, and it would've been a wise decision prior to this point to go to the hospital. But there had yet to be any major, notable complications, besides the actual cuts and temporary blindness, to warrant a visit to the doctor. As far as he was aware of anyway.

"Well, I actually wanted to share some stuff with you. About my premonition, I mean. I've learned some things that I think are important." Alex elaborated, shrugging it off. "But it's okay if you don't want to, since I know you aren't feeling all that great right now. We can talk about it later." He _should_ bring up everything about Sam's case to everyone involved in the plane explosion, so they could know and watch their backs, when Death came around to claiming them, but he couldn't do that now. Tod was his priority above all.

Tod pressed into the skin of his neck again, like it had become a nervous habit just overnight. Every time Alex looked at it, it became a mark on his personal record. The lacerations were deeply engraved in his own mind, reminding him that Tod had been so close to slipping away. 

A life without Tod: the thought scared him.

"I was actually kind of hoping we could chat a little more casually. You know, like we used to? I don't really want to bring up anything including the incident." The other teen explained and he nodded in reciprocation, expecting as much. Sometimes it was difficult to talk about a loss, Alex could understand that.

Tod's movements of rubbing his sore neck were becoming mesmerizing, to the point where Alex became lost in thought. He hadn't even realized he'd shifted until the palm of his hand had met Tod's windpipe.

He could feel his Adam's apple bob under his palm as he gulped. "Alex?"

The teen blinked instantly back into his own mind, revoking his hand from the other's throat. "It's - sorry." He apologized hastily, his eyes glancing away in a skittish manner.

Tod hummed and carefully placed his hand over the back of Alex's. He gingerly squeezed the other's hand in his, reassuring. "It's fine. I just wasn't expecting you to, that's all." Tod stuttered, his face heated up, and not by lack of oxygen or hundreds of bursting capillaries in his cheeks. "You can, you know, if you want. I don't mind."

Alex opted for letting out a light 'huh?' in his confusion, prompting elaboration.

"It's okay dude, you can touch me. I know you wouldn't harm me." Tod slowly adviced, pulling his hand away from his throat to completely enclose Alex's hand in a complete encompassment.

"Never," Alex adds to the other's statement. After seeing Tod smile with agreement at his comment: he lifts his hand, previously encased in Tod's hands, but they fall away as he draws closer, and places his palm over the nape of the other's neck. His thumb extends to press down into deep-forming scar tissue.

Tod shudders and recounts his breathing when he thinks he'll forget how to. His hands stray back up, attaching partially around Alex's arm.

Alex is careful to not irritate the scarring, rubbing the skin near the large cuts in soothing circles. Sometime into the process, he brings up his other arm and begins massaging both sides of Tod's neck in trepidation.

"Yeah man. Just like that." Tod slides his hand down to the joint of Alex's shoulder and squeezes.

Alex feels his cheeks heat up in a rush of blood, can practically feel embarrassment pool into his gut, but doesn't pull away or retort. His best friend is in his hands - living, breathing, seeing, moving - and it's the most wondrous feeling to him to just have Tod here, right now, right in front of him.

"I'm glad," Alex says in a spur of the moment. Isolated, the statement means nothing. Anyone could hear that and assume anything about Alex. But it's Tod who hears, and brings it in past his ears, and _really_ hears Alex speak his mind through the simple claim it is.

It's surprisingly not Alex who moves first. He's the one who seemed like he would initiate something, like he'd pull in the flying sparks past his teeth and let out a breath of blazing fire; he's the one that wants the closeness desperately if only to avoid being alone. But it's not the case when Tod pushes his other arm up to intersect Alex's other shoulder, then begins to haul himself in closer, past the other's guard with reckless abandon, and plants his lips to Alex's. Alex practically melts into it, tries to deepen it, his arms sliding up around the back of Tod's neck, and he pulls in his friend to the space between his knees on the bed, with no effort as Tod obliges forward eagerly, so their cores are pressed to each other. 

It's sweet and wet and sloppy, but it's Tod on his lips, in his arms, with a certain ecstatic energy about him, and Alex won't refute that he could get used to this. There's raw passion and affection, even as Tod moves impossibly closer by wrapping his own arms around Alex's neck, and it seems almost selfish to them individually, but it's compromise and comforting for them both. And it's enough.

Alex is the one that pulls back evidently, his eyes blinking open from when his eyelids had slid shut at his relief. His face feels so warm, sharing his breaths, but the red of his cheeks is ignored as he keeps Tod isolated in his thoughts and sights.

Tod presses his forehead to Alex's with a light nudge, chuckling airly when Alex jolts, like rousing from a trance. "Very casual talk," Tod remarks in the light of it all. And Alex barks out a laugh he didn't realize he'd been subduing. 

They're drowned out and muddled to the world, as they stay perfectly entranced by the other. There's other places they could derive joy or peace or pleasure from, but being in each other's arms is the safest, securiest, and, most importantly, the most enjoyable place in their whole world: and that'll always be enough.

There are a few more shared kisses. Their drive is still strong and they won't stand to separate now. In total, it's messy, and they could definitely work on their aims, but with deeply-rooted affection the two share, there's nothing to point fingers at besides desperation.

Alex's delicate and careful with his roaming hands, being extremely diligent to only paw massages into Tod's back and carefully avoid his wounds. Tod's the opposite however, much less of an explorer, keeping his arm's steadily attached around Alex's throat for some grounding.

It's tempting to let this go on further: Tod wasn't backing off anytime soon, if anything, whispering further encouragements at the soothing touches, as if he wants this just as badly, more so, as Alex does.

Alex goes in for the peck this time, and laughs with a bout of playfulness into Tod's lips when he manages to push him over onto his back. Tod breathes in the laughter, feeling a chuckle escape him, as if possibly contagious. Then Alex pulls back, still holding himself over his friend, and his heart skips a beat when he pushes up his knee directly into Tod's underthigh. The boy goes to pull his hands away when Tod detects the embarrassment and unfurls his arms from around the other's neck, only to slide up his hands to the back of Alex's head, carding through the boy's strands of hair with his fingers.

"C'mon Alex, there's more to this. Show me how alive we really are." Tod is inevitably flushed about his position, but still holding onto a sense of wishful alacrity.

Alex nods, lifting himself up, only to drag his hands down to Tod's waist and slipping, with ease, underneath his shirt. He leans back down to claim Tod's mouth once more, relieved to hear a pleased hum escape the other.

"Just be careful with me, hah, Alex." Tod speaks between lips breathlessly, closing his eyes with a quiet yearning. It's a joke, Alex thinks, maybe a jab at a deep feeling of being pathetic or weak. He makes nothing of it, continuing his task of smoothing his hand over a chest and following the curve of his back.

Alex then slides his hands down, aligning Tod's legs to his hips, giving them a slight roll. This earns a heated puff, a release of raw, pent-up energy, from the other boy, when he perceives the implications of the feeling and shared friction.

"You sure about this?" Alex breathes out in a huff of air, feeling like he's just run a marathon. It doesn't help he's getting anxious, which leads to his bare excitement.

Tod hums, pulling Alex in for another chaste kiss. It's sweet, as mouths begin to finally grow accustomed to the other, memorizing creases and nerves meticulously, slotting together neatly, as the last few had been hurried and too desperate for another taste to follow suit. This one's sincere and profound though, sharing a connection that muttered words couldn't hope to imitate.

"Does that answer your question, warlock?" Tod says playfully, in mock of less lighter events. It's not funny, not really, almost tempting to pinch the bridge of his nose, but Alex can't help but stifle a laugh anyway with how weightless he feels. His hum in reciprocation, followed by a hand trailing down to fiddle with a tight waistband elicits a moan from Tod.

Alex means to pull away for a moment, suspecting that if this is going where he thinks it will, he'll need to grab some things from his nightstand, but Tod doesn't let him sit up as he immediately is pulling him back down onto himself. Their lips lock again, a mix of pleasure, passion, and desperation, as Alex tries to press his palms to the bed to try and sit up again.

He loves the feeling though, practically melts into the kiss, forgetting about everything for the moment in favor of this split second of affection.

Alex does however pull away for a second to throw in his two cents. "I have to get condoms. Or at least some lube." It's not a second later he's got hands massaging into his scalp, with a smile on Tod's tinted lips from all the worrying.

"Okay, yeah, get those. Going to need them, huh." Tod affirms his request, slowly pulling his hands down to his chest to allow Alex some moving space.

Alex pulls himself up and reaches to his nightstand, pulling open the drawer with relative ease. He means to place his hand in the drawer when hands press into his chest. Alex has a moment to hastily grab a handful of condoms and a practical amount of lube before hands are preying on his shirt, trying to unbutton it. He squirms and sets his fistful down on the mattress before sitting up to tend to the hands on his shirt.

"Mm, take it off." Tod hums out, popping a button open on Alex's shirt, trailing down to work on the next. Alex follows his hands, unbuttoning his shirt much quicker than Tod could. He throws the article away, left with only his white tang-top. 

The teen on top then unbuttons Tod's shirt in suit, disposing of it as well, as a pile of clothes starts to congest on the floor.

~~

It's been 2 months since Tod had been confronted by Death itself. Since then, Terry, Miss Lewton, Billy, and Clear had passed away by their own encounters with Death. The months had been only somber, a time of mourning with no room for much else. It was time he got to enjoying his life again.

Alex blinked into his body, the ringing in his ears tuning back into the vicious uproar of the surrounding crowd.

"Hey Browning, back to earth!" Carter nudged him in the arm, making Alex jump in his chair and spin his head to him, having forgotten where he was for a moment.

His head cleared after drawing a blank and he replied. "What did you say? Sorry, I was zoning." Alex apologized.

The jock sneered a look of disgust beside Alex. "Yeah, I could see as much. I asked why we're here, watching this shit. I didn't see you as a big baseball fan." He said.

The man turned back to the game, his eyes roaming over the player dashing across the field. So far the Yankees and Tigers had been too equally matched to make the game much interesting. The Yankees had gotten one point throughout the first inning, with no scoring from the opposing Tigers.

"I came because Tod wanted to see them play." Alex turned back to Carter, who scoffed in response.

"Great, I'm here watching the fucking Yankees play because your little 'boyfriend' wanted to. This is the last time I'll agree to do something like this with you. I bet you don't even like baseball." The jock sunk into his chair, determined to keep a scowl going the entirety of the remaining game.

Carter wasn't exactly wrong. He didn't love baseball, but it wasn't his least favorite either. The only reason he ever watched the sport was because he could do it with Tod, who unimaginably loved it.

"C'mon Carter, it's not that bad. We can go somewhere of your choice afterwards, okay?" Alex offered as compromise. The jock seated beside him debated the idea mentally for a moment, mulling over the possibilities, before finally sighing and agreeing to the proposition, the scowl on his face dispersing.

They both turned back to the game, carefully watching the players run across the field.

After a while of watching the game, they watched as the Tigers overturned their luck and scored twice in the 2nd inning, making Carter cheer when the Yankees were now losing. "Didn't I say I was lucky? Fuck the Yanks."

Alex almost scoffed himself, but held his tongue. "I thought _you_ were the one who hated baseball. The true Carter reveals himself now though."

The jock turned back towards Alex, a smirk alight on his face. "Maybe I don't like baseball, yeah, sure, but I love when your team loses." He tried being coy, but Alex knew this was the sensitive part of his friend showing. Carter hated losing or even being wrong, his own insecurities in play. That wasn't Alex's place to say.

"We'll see, Carter. The Yanks are going to beat the Tigers though." Alex smirked back, making the other fume at the challenge presenting itself.

"Hey! It's cheating to use your psychic abilities here. Not that they work anyway Browning, since the Tigers are going to beat your shitty Yankees." Carter shot back, emphasizing a bit much.

Alex laughed as if it was a joke, but maybe he'd just been so unused to easy banter like this. Carter wasn't even insulting him directly, merely jabbing at a baseball team that Tod adored. His laughing made the jock sigh and turn back to the game, finding no insult to add.

Alex cleared his throat when a body slammed into the chair beside him and a bundle of two wrapped hotdogs were shoved into his hands.

"Finally got through the line. And just as they ran out too. Here's two dogs for you and Carter." Tod shifted into his seat, smiling when Alex turned back to him. He impulsively and swiftly grabbed Alex's jacket collar and pulled him in for a greeting kiss. Alex hummed, clutching the hotdogs in his hands.

Tod pulled away, keeping a small space between them so he could mutter to Alex. "Or you can just eat both and not give one to Carter. It's up to you babe."

Carter perked up beside them, pulling Alex back by the shoulder. "Hey, I'm getting my food. Don't pretend I can't hear the two of you." The jock snatched a package from Alex's hands, unwrapping it as they all watched. Carter bit into it, a confident smirk on his face. He then swallowed and let go of Alex. "Hey, my drink?"

Tod plucked a cup from the tray he had carried to his seat and passed it to Carter's awaiting hand. Carter huffed, placing it in his cupholder and turning back to the game.

"A thanks would've sufficed." Tod muttered as Alex unwrapped his own hotdog and began to eat it in silence, settling comfortably back into his chair.

Tod put another drink in the cupholder he and Alex shared before taking out a package stuffed in his pocket. He then paused, leaning over to Alex's shoulder, his eyes trained on the game. "He forgot the candy that came with it. Too bad for him really."

Alex held back a snicker, averting his eyes to Tod to not rouse suspicion. "Seriously? What did you get?"

Tod shuffled through his hoodie pocket and pulled out a box of Skittles Fruits. He pushed it into Alex's lap. Expecting that to be all, he was shocked when Tod then also pulled out a box of Sno Caps. 

"Figured both looked pretty good. And they come with the dogs, so I said: why not." The other teen shoved both candy boxes back into his pocket, tending to unwrapping the package in his own lap. 

Alex scanned the scarf around Tod's neck. He recalled when they had been in bed, absorbing each other's warmth; he remembered how deep the cuts had been on his boyfriend's neck, and how blood beaded out when he applied soft pressure; he could never forget the fear that overtook him when he'd first seen Tod before him, on the brink of death. 

Afterwards, Tod's parents had arrived at his house and demanded to see their son. Tod had been so reluctant to leave, had almost refused his parents outright at the door, but Alex had assured him he could come by any time. Regardless, they weren't able to see each other for about a week after, but that didn't limit them from phone calls or passing notes.

The week of seperation was riddled with the deaths of many they had befriended: Terry got hit by a speeding bus, Miss Lewton was accidentally pierced by a knife, Billy was killed by a metal projectile decapitating him, and Clear had been in a car when it suddenly exploded. Each brought pain to Alex moments before happening. A sudden ache flaring in his side, in his chest, in his head, in his face. Just like Tod and how his neck had burned and he had nearly suffocated. It made no sense at first glance, but he eventually came to understand they were dying in the order they would've died in his premonition. 

But what he still didn't know was why Tod and Carter were skipped over. He had the tingling feelings of pain before disaster for both, pain in his neck and then in his left arm, but nothing had killed either of them and the order had proceeded without claiming them.

This did leave him next in line, a thought he didn't wish to have. Maybe if he knew what they were doing to get skipped then he could skip his turn too? 

He looked to Tod first, who was indulging in a soft pretzel beside him, eyes focused intently on the game. Tod glanced over to check on Alex, to see him looking back. "Hey, something wrong man?" He asked, carefully quiet and gentle.

Alex shook his head, taking a sip of their drink to cool his nerves. He already knew every single detail about Tod's encounter with Death, there was nothing significant enough for him to nail a reason on. "No, nothing's going on, was just lost in thought."

Tod nodded in reciprocation, a smile on his lips as he turned back to the game. 

Alex shifted a little in his seat before he turned back around and faced Carter. "Hey, Carter?"

The jock turned his head up, his usual anger docile. "Yeah? What is it, Browning?"

Alex cleared his throat, clutching his hotdog in his hand. Talking about the incidents felt like some type of taboo.

"I was wondering, around the time when Billy was, y'know, hit by the metal scrap, what were you doing?" Alex asked.

Carter hummed, his hand pressing to his chin. His gaze wondered back onto the field, thinking carefully how to respond. "Why are you asking me this now?" He turned back to Alex.

"I'm trying to figure this all out still. Just tell me what you were doing when Billy died." Alex demanded and that earned him a scoff.

"I thought it was all done with and buried; it's been two months. If you must know, I was driving Billy and Rivers around in my car before it happened." Carter explained and Alex jolted in his seat from the shock. A tight aching pressure struck his body, making his muscles clench and stiffen uncontrollably.

Tod placed a hand on his shoulder, stilling him. "Hey, calm down, what's going on?" The teen forced Alex to look at him, finding his wide eyes. "Hey, hey, tell me what's going on."

"It's okay Tod, I'm okay." Alex slowly breathed out, his shoulders relaxing from how tense he'd become. Tod waved a hand around and Alex followed along by mimicking in his stabilizing breathing pattern.

Tod reluctantly let go of Alex when the teen made to turn back to a puzzled Carter. The look alone prompted elaboration.

"I don't know. There was an intense pain in my body all of a sudden, but it was only a small burst. You were saying about Billy and Clear, she was with you when Billy died?" Alex asked, gaining a slow nod from Carter.

"What? You mean you and Clear were hanging out, with Billy?" Tod asked, inserting himself into the conversation. 

Carter huffed out in annoyance. "Yes, I already established that. Rivers said she wanted to regroup everyone together, not over the phone so the FBI wouldn't get suspicious. She had me drive to drop her and Billy off at some cabin. But she was saying crazy shit the whole time. She was spewing about an order, that Death was coming for us all because we skipped his 'list' the first time. Something like a coroner told her so. I don't know, I think she was losing her touch after everything that happened."

Alex's breathing paused for a moment. "So I was right about there being an order. And then? What happened with Billy?"

Carter took a long sip of his drink before slamming it back into it's cupholder, almost like gaining the courage to say what transpired. "My car stalled on a railroad track. Billy and Rivers rushed out when a train had begun approaching, but I knew my car would start again with no problem. I couldn't though, no matter what I did the car wouldn't start up again."

Alex recognized the scenario. His left arm flaring in pain, the side of the driver in any American-built car. Had Carter been hit by the train, that would've been his death. "That doesn't explain why you were skipped." He unknowingly muttered out loud.

Carter snorted by his own choice. "I didn't finish yet. Surprising to everyone, Billy helped me out of the seat, just as the train destroyed my car to pieces. He was yelling at me: 'that's the _last_ time I ever help you, Carter!' just before a chunk of my car was spat out from the under side of the train and hit him."

Alex nodded resolutely. That made a little more sense in his book; Billy had stopped Carter from being hit. 

"Interference saved you. Someone stepped in before you died and that's why you were skipped from the order." Alex claimed, looking to Carter and then at Tod. "You both were skipped because someone prevented you from dying."

"So, for all we know, if Rivers was right about the order bullshit, then you're next?" Carter clarified.

"Wait, what? Hold on, I don't remember anyone saving me." Tod commented, making Alex contemplate further.

"Maybe it doesn't have to be a physical interaction. Look, you said you were thinking about how much you'd miss people as you were choking. Since we don't know exactly how this works, maybe the mental vigor of people in your mind fueled you to preventing your own death." Alex tried to reason, emphasizing his thought process with his hands, but he could never be sure.

"I'm going to be honest, that sounds really dumb." Carter added unhelpfully.

"Shut it Carter, we don't know how this works so you shouldn't say that." Tod shot back at the other's snark. The teen then placed a hand around Alex's arm. "It makes sense, it's not dumb."

Alex looked up and smiled at Tod. "Thanks, I appreciate that." Genuinely glad of how supportive his boyfriend was being despite how outlandish everything was starting to sound.

Alex leaned over and lightly grabbed the scarf around Tod's neck. He then pulled the other boy over to meet in the middle, intersecting between seats, as they came together in a delightful press of lips. A hand moved behind his neck, allowing them to deepen the kiss.

Carter dutifully hissed at the sight, turning back to the game with elated interest. Better than watching Browning and Waggner go at it, he thought.

They pulled away for a moment to exchange shared looks.

"Let's forget about it for now, okay? It's unpleasant to mull over it while we can be doing other, much more enjoyable things." Tod advised, a playful tease in his tone, and Alex couldn't agree more.

Despite it nagging him for so long, the pieces seemed like they were finally coming together. He may be next, but the time would've came sooner or later.

"Alright, it'll be the last thing you'll hear about it from me." Alex gave an almost apologetic look before he scooted over in his seat and leaned his head on Tod's shoulder to finish watching the game.

Tod accompanied his head by lying his own over Alex's. They had come back into the 4th inning, with the Tigers batting. 

The pitcher threw a fast one, but the batter didn't stutter, slamming the ball as it approached home base. The ball went soaring high above, slamming into the metal sheets of roofing that were above Alex's seat. A sudden pain erupted in the top of Alex's head, at the very top of his skull. He seized his head in his hands but didn't wince or cry out.

Tod patted Alex's back gingerly, his hand moving to force Alex's eyes back on his. "You've been freaking out a lot here. We should just go, I think you'll feel much better."

Carter audibly admonished in his seat. "I drove you two here and you're telling me it was all a waste-?"

"Seriously, shut it Carter. Don't spare us another insult. I don't even know why Alex wanted to bring you with since you're such an asshole." Tod defended, pulling Alex's head into his own two hands, soothing the pain that had sparked in his skull. He'd done it similarly when Alex could hardly stand up due to Terry's premoniton pain by massaging the tense parts.

Alex looked up at Tod, tears prickling at the edge of his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, to say something, to explain what he was feeling, like being crushed under a heavy, debilitating weight, when a loud _thunk_ resonated throughout the entire stadium. 

Tod, Alex, and Carter raised their alarmed eyes up high to witness a large, metal, ceiling plate abovehead had loosened from it's hinges and was falling rather quickly.

"Oh fuck."


End file.
